Insomnia
by Solsbury Girl
Summary: Ianto's trouble sleeping results in trouble, in turn, for Jack.


**Insomnia**

**10.35pm**

Ianto was bone-crushingly, mind-numbingly tired. He was so tired he felt like crying; he understood exactly what drove a baby to howl inconsolably with weariness. He was utterly miserable. His head ached, his back ached, his legs ached; actually it was easier to catalogue the bits of him that didn't ache. He did that quickly. There were none.

It had been a hard week at the Hub. The Rift had been busy depositing more than Cardiff's share of Hoix, Blowfish, and other as yet uncatalogued species. Ianto had spent the entire morning chasing a Weevil without catching it and then they'd received a surprise social visit from some of Jack's old friends from Arcateen V, who were on holiday in the Western Spiral Arm. They'd popped in to reminisce over memories of Woodstock. Ianto had been the perfect host, furnishing the obligatory tea and coffee on an hourly basis. He decided it was better to do lunch at the Hub rather than to take out a crowd of raucous humanoid aliens, so he bought in some treats that were tastier than the normal fare of pizza and chinese. Though Ianto decided, honoured guests as they were, that he was not going to use the best fruit and diamond patterned Queen Anne art deco dinner service as they seemed to be becoming more boisterous by the moment.

But it was the last straw when, during a coffee round, he'd found the Hub deserted. Tosh, Owen and Gwen were on a call-out after more Weevils. But of Jack and the Arcateenians, there was no sign. He'd checked the CCTV and spotted them all, including Jack, in the garage, about to paint flower-power slogans over the SUV. Ianto suspected that perhaps they'd been indulging in some reminiscent recreational substances, because under normal circumstances Jack was rather over-possessive of the SUV and wouldn't have welcomed anyone trying to paint purple and yellow flowers all over it, let alone demanded his own paintbrush.

So, all in all, it had been one helluva week at the Hub.

"Stay here tonight," Jack said. "You're in no fit state to drive."

Yawning widely, Ianto nodded.

Jack kissed him gently and helped him off with his jacket. "Go on downstairs and get into bed, I'll fetch you something to eat."

"No, too tired to chew. Or swallow" he said, pointing a warning to Jack that tonight was not going to be a San Francisco-style love-in. "Just want to sleep."

"OK." Jack led the way down into his bunker. Ianto followed and sat down heavily on the side of the bed, head drooping on his chest. He appeared to have stalled.

Jack smiled and dropped to his knees to untie Ianto's shoelaces. He helped the young Welshman to undress fully and then pulled back the covers. "Hop in," he commanded. "I'll join you later. I just need to go do a quick inventory of the medical supplies before Owen gets in tomorrow. I, er, let the Arcateenians, er, take some stuff while they were here. That is, take some with them when they left. Yeah. That's what I meant. They were running low on medical supplies. They didn't have any while they were here. No, no, no no one did."

Ianto was too tired to take issue with Jack on the subject of recreational drugs, for which Jack was grateful. He had emerged from that phase swiftly in the late sixties and really didn't want to have to explain that, and the day's events, to a disapproving Ianto. Ianto simply lay down between the cool, crisp cotton sheets with a relieved sigh, closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him. He didn't expect it to take long.

**11.10pm**

He was still waiting for the relief of Morpheus, but was now lying on his back with his eyes open, hands clasped under his head, when he heard Jack creep down the ladder. Jack was unexpectedly quiet as he tried not to wake Ianto, whom he presumed would be sound asleep by now.

"Hi," said Ianto so that Jack didn't have to worry about stealth mode any longer.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Couldn't. Too tired."

Jack frowned, but didn't challenge that statement. He undressed and climbed into the bed with Ianto. "Come here," he said, gently pulling Ianto towards him.

Ianto snuggled comfortably into Jack's embrace and rested his head on Jack's shoulder, closing his eyes again.

Jack kissed his forehead. "Do you want me to rub your back? That usually helps you relax."

"Mmmm," mmmed the Welshman gratefully. "I'd like that." He felt the tension begin to leave him as Jack swept his hands up and down his spine in a gently soothing, non-sexual motion. He felt his eyelids finally become heavy and he slipped into much longed-for sleep.

**Midnight, exactly**

Ianto was wide awake. He sighed deeply and turned over, pulling the quilt down to uncover his shoulders and chest, pushing his feet out from under it.

"What's the matter?" asked Jack, sleepily, awoken by Ianto's movement.

"Too hot," muttered Ianto, grumpily.

Jack kissed the nape of Ianto's neck, and then backed away a little so that his body was no longer spooned up against Ianto's, to allow cooler air to circulate between them. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Now, Mr Jones, please do us both a favour and go back to sleep."

**02.17**

"Fuck." Ianto swore softly, trying unsuccessfully not to waken Jack.

"Now what?" It was Jack's turn to sound grumpy. He didn't mean to, but he was tired too. And, though he wasn't going to admit it, he had something of a hangover induced by his activities with the Arcateenians. But, unlike Ianto, he was having no trouble sleeping. Well, no trouble until each time Ianto woke him.

"Too cold."

Jack tucked his Welshman back up in the quilt, kissed him quickly on the forehead, and went immediately back to sleep.

**3.13 **

"Jack? Jack!" An insistent hand began to shake the sleeping Captain.

Jack snapped awake instantly. "Yeah? What's the matter? Rift alarm? Alien attack? Are you feeling ill?" He sat upright, gasping, with the same vigour that seized him during a resurrection. He looked anxiously down on the miserable, red-eyed archivist, who was clearly wide awake. Again.

"Jack. Would you make love to me? That always puts me to sleep."

Luckily Jack understood that the over-tired and now utterly inarticulate archivist was actually trying to indicate that sex with Jack left him feeling deeply relaxed.

Normally, Jack would have been delighted that Ianto was taking the initiative, but tonight Jack was also unusually tired. But he made the effort and fell asleep immediately afterwards, satiated and absolutely exhausted. He had nothing more to give.

**3.52**

"OK, Ianto. This isn't working. Let's try something different. Get up. Let's take a stroll around the Hub. We'll check the Rift monitor, I usually do that around now anyhow. Then we'll sit down and listen to some music. You clearly aren't going to get any sleep like this." _– and neither am I, at this rate._

They climbed topside and Jack led Ianto to the sofa that stood beneath the Torchwood tiles. He turned on a soothing Schubert piano sonata they both liked, then said "I'll be back in a moment. I'm going to the kitchen. Just sit here and try to relax." He tossed a blanket towards the Welshman, who was sitting bolt upright on the seat, grasping the edge of the cushions as if his life depended on it. He was a perfect picture of tension. Ianto caught the blanket and put it on the seat by his side. Jack took a deep, calming, breath and returned to the sofa. He pressed on Ianto's shoulders, gently forcing him to lean against the sofa back. "Would you bloody loosen up?" he hissed, picking up the folded blanket and shaking it out, offering it to Ianto. "Concentrate on the A Minor. You know you like it. Otherwise, I'm putting my Velvet Underground on!"

Ianto sighed and sank into the sofa, drawing the blanket around his shoulders. He leaned his head back and shut his eyes, trying to let the soft cadences of the Schubert soothe him. Jack headed off towards the kitchen humming "All of Tomorrow's Parties".

Ianto was too exhausted to even warn Jack off using the coffee machine. But deep down he knew that caffeine was the last thing that Jack would be offering him at the moment. Jack was as good as his word and returned swiftly.

He handed over a mug of hot liquid. "Here. Drink this. It's my last resort. No, don't argue. I know you don't really like warm milky drinks but just drink it anyway. You won't eat, so a mug of Horlicks will at least get something into your stomach. Should make you feel better. And sleepy."

Ianto took it gratefully and sipped at it, scooping the skin off and offering it to Jack, who licked it from his fingers. Gradually, Ianto's eyelids drooped and finally his breathing became slow and even. Jack recognized, with a sigh of profound relief, that Ianto was, at last, truly asleep. He eased the Welshman's body so that Ianto was lying comfortably flat on the sofa, slipped a cushion under his head, and tucked the blanket warmly around his naked form. Drained of all energy, he went to his own bed and was asleep within seconds.

**7.33 am**

Owen entered the Hub hopeful that Ianto had beaten him in, because he really fancied a cup of good coffee. He was disappointed not to be able to smell the aroma of King Ianto's finest permeating the Hub. As he looked to see if Ianto was about, he realized that the Hub was unusually quiet. Normally both Jack and Ianto were around at that time. Perhaps they were out hunting, or the Rift had kicked off during the night. Taking advantage of the unexpected quiet, he decided he'd snatch ten minutes to sit and read the newspaper he'd picked up on his way in. He made his way to the sofa and was surprised to find Ianto lying on it, on his left side, facing towards the wall. Normally, if Ianto stayed overnight at the Hub, he slept down in Jack's bunker. "Lovers' tiff" diagnosed the doctor, smiling to himself.

"Wake up," he said, nudging the Welshman's feet in the hope of finding a comfortable place to sit and leaf through the Daily Express. Ianto didn't move. Owen frowned. He knew that Ianto was a light sleeper. "Ianto," he said, shaking the Welshman tentatively by the shoulder.

Ianto still didn't stir. Owen shifted seamlessly into doctor mode. He stretched out to feel for a pulse in Ianto's neck and breathed a sigh of relief when his fingers found one. He reached his hand around in front of Ianto's nose and mouth and felt another wave of relief when the soft exhalation of air tickled the hairs on the back of his hand. But something was clearly very wrong because he couldn't rouse Ianto. He tried pinching the sensitive skin in the web between Ianto's thumb and forefinger. Ianto whimpered quietly, but didn't move or respond to his name.

"Jack?" yelled Owen. "Jack? Where the hell are you? What happened here last night?" There was no answer. Had there been some kind alien incursion overnight? Had there been an accident while they were out hunting? Owen was torn between searching the Hub to try to find his Captain, and dealing with Ianto, but clearly Ianto had an immediate requirement for him. Owen needed to see if the Welshman was injured or damaged. He slowly removed the blanket and was surprised to find Ianto naked beneath it.

But before he dared to turn Ianto onto his back, or try to sit him up, he needed to assure himself that there was no damage to his spine or limbs. He reached out and gently, but thoroughly, felt each of Ianto's vertebrae in turn. Once he'd felt his way along the length of the neck and spine, and soft tissue of his back, he turned his attention to Ianto's arms and legs, again gently but firmly feeling for any sign of breakage, deformity, or even puncture wounds. There was no sign of bruising, which he took as a positive sign that hopefully there was no damage to his internal organs. As he was doing this, he was grateful to hear Ianto let out a small breath that was almost a sigh. It didn't sound as if he was in pain. Actually, it sounded almost like a sigh of pleasure.

"OK, Teaboy, let's get you turned over, see what's going on. Whoah!" said Owen. He'd reached for Ianto's right shoulder with his right hand, and supporting the small of Ianto's back with his left, he'd carefully rolled him onto his back.

Owen's exclamation was a mixture of relief and disgust. Although Ianto was still very deeply unconscious, clearly something of Owen's ministrations had penetrated his subconscious. And very clearly he'd obviously enjoyed the slow and thorough examination of every inch of his back. Trying to avoid looking at Ianto's groin, Owen continued the examination. Ianto also appeared to continue to enjoy the sensation. Owen thought philosophically that, even if Ianto wasn't actually aware of his body, his body was aware of Ianto. He wasn't totally out of it. Owen, bent low over the Welshman's body to perform the frontal examination, got to Ianto's left femur, trying desperately to ignore the erection bobbing close to his mouth as he felt his way along the upper part of the leg.

And that's exactly how Jack found them when he finally emerged from his bunker.

"OWEN!" he called in shock and indignation. "What the hell is going on here? What are you doing to Ianto? He's asleep!"

Owen looked up, suddenly aware of how the situation might look.

"I think that's more the question I should be asking you, Captain," said Owen frostily. He picked up the half finished drink from the table and dipped his finger in and tasted it cautiously. The flavour of the Horlicks didn't quite camouflage the flavour of something else. "Why has Ianto been drugged? Who did this to him?"

Jack looked Owen straight in the eye. "I did it. I had to."

Owen frowned. "Why? Has he been hurt; I can't find anything wrong with him. Was he in pain? Why didn't you call me? I am his doctor, after all."

"No," replied Jack, shamefaced. "He hadn't been hurt, but he was about to be."

"Why?" Owen was at a loss.

"I was about to kill him. He was keeping me awake."

Owen was unimpressed. "And that gives you the right to drug the man, Dr Harkness?" He stressed the word 'doctor'.

Jack hung his head. "You weren't here. We were both desperate to sleep."

"And if I had been here, I wouldn't have given him that much. He's going to be out of it for a while. Well, bits of him, at any rate. That's an amazing subconscious physiological reaction he's having there." They both looked at Ianto's midsection. Jack, now he had grabbed a few hours sleep, found himself badly wanting his Welshman.

"I'll take him down to my bed, get him somewhere out of the way then," he suggested hopefully.

"Oh no you don't, Harkness," said Owen quickly. "It is not fair to help yourself to that while he is asleep. Just go get some pyjama bottoms for him and he can stay there. I presume you do own some?"

Jack shook his head.

"Well, find him something loose and casual, rather like yourself!" Owen was becoming increasingly frustrated. He needed a cup of coffee. "I want him where I can keep an eye on him in case he throws up. You do know you've overdosed him, don't you?"

Jack looked horrified. "Have I? How do you know?" he blurted out.

"That would be because I'm DOCTOR Owen Harper, and I studied for seven years so I could tell when my boss has drugged my colleagues. And has been taking recreational drugs himself." He glanced sternly at Jack, who covered his face with his hands. "Honestly, Jack! Act your age!"

"But I worked out the dose. He's only an inch or so shorter than I am, so I gave him a little less than I'd use for myself."

Owen shook his head in despair. "Yeah, Jack, but the teaboy weighs considerably less than you. Unlike you, who'd put anything in your mouth and swallow, Ianto doesn't have a big appetite….for food," he qualified before Jack could chime in with a suggestive remark. "And if you'd been operating at the top of your game, you would have thought of that."

"You have a point." conceded the captain, ruefully. "I think I miscalculated. Please, don't tell the girls. About any of it," pleaded Jack, piteously.

"Much as I'd like to," said Owen sadly, "but I think that patient\doctor confidentiality is involved here."

Jack shot him a grateful look. "Thanks."

"However," said Owen, "I will have to tell Ianto what you've done to him, once he's slept it off. It needs to go into his medical records that he's had an accidental overdose, in case it sensitizes him to this drug in the future. He should be back with us properly tomorrow morning."

Jack blanched visibly. "Oh God. Tomorrow morning? Really? Won't he be up and around this evening?"

Owen shook his head. "Nope. He's going nowhere for the next 24 hours."

"Fuck!" said Jack, rather uncharacteristically. He seldom swore.

"What's so important?" asked Owen curiously.

"We've got tickets tonight to go to the Cardiff Glee Club across the Plass on Mermaid Quay. He's been looking forward to this for ages. His favourite standup comic is on. He will kill me if he misses Rhod Gilbert."

"Well then, I'd get ready for one of your resurrection headaches, Jack, if I were you."

Jack sat down heavily. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"There's spare tickets for Rhod Gilbert tonight?" ventured Owen, hopefully.

Jack glared at him. Actually, Owen was only too well aware of Ianto's favourite method of exacting long and painful revenge on his colleagues. He softened, and touched Jack sympathetically on the arm.

"Dear God, I so hate decaf," wailed Jack, disconsolately.

"It does serve you right." Owen examined Ianto again, and apparently satisfied with his breathing and vitals, dismissed Jack. "Go on, take the boy down to your miserable hole. Get him out of the way before the girls arrive. It'll be easier that way. I don't want them to hear your screams when he wakes up."

Jack smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Owen." Jack bent down and scooped the comatose form of his lover up into gentle arms. Just as Jack was about to make his way back to his bunker, Owen reached into his coat pocket and produced a small bottle containing a dark liquid. "Here," said the doctor. He held the bottle out to Jack, who managed to grab it without dropping either it or Ianto.

"What is it?" he asked, staring curiously at it. It was unlabeled.

"A couple of drops each time should do the trick," said Owen, mysteriously. "It's my own recipe. I've had to resort to using it on a few occasions."

"What is it?" he repeated. "What exactly is it in the bottle?" He recalled the last time Owen gave him a bottle of mysterious dark liquid to drink. It had resulted in Ianto and him making front page news in the local paper. Naked.

"It's pure distilled caffeine. You're going to need it for your decaf for at least the next month."

_End_

* * *

AN: And for any purists out there, before you tell me that Mary, in Greeks Bearing Gifts, was from Arcateen V and therefore all Arcateenians are baddies, check out the very excellent "Torchwood Archives" for some good additional canon material!


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